


Blur

by Fcknziam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Clubbing, Drinking, F/M, One Night Stands, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:58:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2121075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fcknziam/pseuds/Fcknziam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You go out for a girls night and leave with a tattooed stranger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blur

With much convincing you’d finally decided to go out with your girlfriends to one of the larger bars in the city for a ‘girls’ night out.’ But really they were just trying to get you a new boy toy. You had just recently gotten out of a relationship, and despite your best efforts assuring them that you were okay with being single for a while they insisted that you ‘get back out there.’ So you there you were, at the bar sipping on a jack and coke through a small straw, alone while your friends dance, stirring the straw with your fingers trying to drown out the loud music behind you. You glanced up to your left and noticed a pair of eyes, very gorgeous eyes, paying close attention to you. He was the typical talk dark and handsome, looking eerily like a model, he wore a fitted black V-neck t-shirt allowing some tattoos on his chest to peek through just enough for you to make out wings and what looked like the beginning of a pair of lips, and by his look you guess some tight dark wash jeans and some VANS or maybe boots. You zeroed in on arm covered in tattoos, and you were instantly intrigued. He was nothing like the guys you usually go for, and yet you found him extremely attractive, scruffy and rugged but with beautiful features. He’d been like that for a while now, maybe 10 minutes, just glancing over at you ever so often without a word. You didn’t really know how this bar thing worked but you knew that at he should have at least tried to make a pass at you by now. You looked away quickly for the third time that night, taking a larger sip from your drink, bringing your hair to the other side of your shoulder to try and block his view, but still being able to feel his glance from the other side of the bar, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Was there something on your face? Was the dress to tight?   
Before you’d realized it you’d finished your drink. You turned around to see if you could manage to spot your group of friends amongst the crowd, a hopeless search. You turned back towards the bar ordering another drink, again taking note of the attractive eyes across the bar. You took a few sips of you drink, feeling a little more confident before looking up in his direction and flashing him a smile. He looks surprised for a moment, taken back that you’d actually acknowledged him, before giving you a shy smile and a nod, lifting his drink to you in a ‘cheers’, you returning the gesture. Looking back in front of you taking more sips of your drink, bigger gulps as time progressed. You were half-way through your drink when you looked over at the guy from across the bar, his attention this time averted elsewhere. He was sat alone now, the other short haired blonde he was with earlier, you’d assumed had gone dancing. You supposed that, that was as good a time as any to make a move, he surely wasn’t going to and you’d grown tired of the grade school back and forth staring contest, even though you were fully aware it was the drinks talking. In no way would you ever just talk up some random, very attractive, guy at a bar, but that’s the reason your friends had brought you there in the first place. You gulped down what remained in your glass, before getting up from the stool, slightly adjusting your small black dress, and making your way to the other side of the bar, stumbling in your heels that still needed some breaking into.  
As you walked up behind him, the alcohol’s effect immediately seemed to fade as your stomach started doing flips. Every part of you wanted to turn around, walk out the front door and catch a cab home, but another part, a small light weight, part of you wanted to do something different than you normally would. You took a deep breath before plopping down in the empty stool next to him, making sure that he notices your presence by flopping your small clutch on the top of the bar as well, slightly obnoxiously. His eyes go to the clutch with questioning eyes, before following his eyes to meet yours. His eyes widen slightly before composing himself.   
“Hi.” He stammers faintly with a smile. You smile back at him, surprised and confused as to his reaction of you. He was nervous, and you could tell trying very hard to keep his yes above your neck, but failing a couple times, taking quick glances at your cleavage. You pat yourself on the back for your choice in dress.   
“Hi.” You smile, tucking a hair behind your ear bashfully.   
You may have been proud at your ability to make a guy as attractive as him stumble over his words, but that doesn’t make you any less nervous. Being up closer to him makes him seem all the more flawless. His eyes are a perfect chocolate brown, and he smells like a smooth combination of smoke, tequila, and men’s cologne, you don’t know which but you make a mental note of it. You look down at his arm and see the swirly details of the tattoos, with a better view, admiring the ink. Before your mind can catch up to your mouth or hands you’re reaching over tracing the large microphone on his forearm lightly with your fingertips.  
“I like this one.” You smile down at the dark patterns that covers a large part of his arms. When you look up he’s looking down at you with a small grin, taking you in you, making you snap your hand way.  
“Sorry.” You apologize quickly.  
“No it’s okay. I like that one too.” He smiles down at you, with a small laugh. He looks intensely into your yes for a moment, a questioning smirk on his face for a moment, making you blush. He hadn’t said anything but somehow he was making you feel like the most beautiful girl in the room.  
“Let me get you a drink. What were you having?” He questioned, a determined look in his eyes.  
“Jack and coke.” You smile back.   
One drink turned into two which turned into a few shots vodka and now, the two of you had gotten very comfortable around each other. You sat facing him in the bar stool him leaning your elbow on the bar, leaning into him listening, or trying to listen to him as he spoke. You watched his mouth, admiring how his lips moved with certain words, his accent sounding thicker with some than others. He seemed to talk slower, or that could have been the alcohol. He sat similar, a hand resting just above your knee making circles with his thumb, the other circling the top of the small glass in front of him. Usually you wouldn’t let someone, especially someone you didn’t know, just touch you, but he just looked so damn good.   
You found out his name was Zayn. Zayn. You liked that. You repeated it a few times, calling it ‘exotic’ earning a laugh and a ‘thanks’ from him. He told you he’d come out with his friends, he was in a band, a student at the community college down the road, the basics. You’d spent probably the past hour and a half talking about nothing, yet laughing at everything.   
“I’d love- love to hear you guys play.” You hick-up smiling, playing with the necklace around your neck.  
“Oh no you don’t. We’re awful! That’s why we can’t get any gigs, well besides that shit coffee house on Jackson.” He laughs taking another drink from his glass. “But it’s alright. I just like playing the music.” He admits, shrugging his shoulders.  
“A true artist.” You lightly mock with a smile, making him laugh for the hundredth time that night.   
There’s a moment of silence between the two of you and you look down at his hand on your knee, which has progressively inched up during the night, without any objection from you, before looking back into his eyes with a questioning smirk.  
“Why didn’t you come talk to me?” you ask quite bluntly.  
“What?” he said with a breathy laugh.  
“Earlier tonight. You didn’t say anything. Were you just going to stare at me the whole time?” you laugh, though you genuinely are curious.   
He took another sip from his drink placing it in front of him, looking back down at you.   
“Truth?”  
“Truth.”  
“You scared the hell out of me.” He laughed.  
“Gee, thanks!” You scoff with a smile and small laugh. You wonder how he, you dare say one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen, could be even the slightest bit intimidated by you. You were all but hiding from him with your hair. But you know what they say. Liquid courage.   
“No! It’s just – you are quite easily the prettiest girl I’ve seen and you seemed nice. I don’t know you seem kind of out of my league. A good girl. So, I figured I wouldn’t waste my time. ” he answers honestly, shrugging his shoulders with a shy smile.  
“A good girl?” you ask raising an eye brow playfully, and he nods.  
“Well. I’ll have you know Mr. –” you draw it out hoping he’d fill it in.  
“Malik.” He laughed.   
“Mr. Malik. that I am not all what I seem. You shouldn’t judge people. It’s very rude.” You mock, smiling inching a little closer to him.   
“Oh, well. I apologize.” He smiles inching mimicking your actions, his eyes glued to your lips.  
“And you’re lucky I came over here. You almost missed your chance.” You said giving a small laugh, zeroing in on his lips as he moved even closer to you, his eyes darting between yours and your lips before he crashed his lips to yours in a kiss, tasting slightly of tequila and lime. You kissed him back, admiring the softness of his lips, the sensation was all too brief as he pulled away looking you in the eyes, leaving you biting your lip, wanting more.  
“I’m not gonna miss any more chances.” He whispers just inches away from your face.   
He places his hand on your cheek, bringing you in for another kiss, this time much deeper, lasting longer. He brings his hand behind your neck bringing you closer to him, as you scoot yourself slightly off the bench to get yourself closer to him. The sober part of your brain is yelling at you to stop making out with a tattooed stranger in the middle of a bar, but his lips move so perfectly with yours it’s easy to drown out. You pull on his bottom lip with your teeth lightly with a smirk, earning a small groan from the back of his throat. He pulls away, hand playing at the ends of your curled hair.  
“I like you.” He smiles suddenly a bit shy.  
“Yeah, you’re not so bad yourself.” You laugh, head still swimming with a mix of the alchol and the kiss.  
And for a minute you were actually really glad you went out, even though you knew you probably would never see this guy again, nor remember, you were like a giddy kid looking into the eyes of some smooth talking, tattooed stranger, who just so happened to be a great kisser, and you were alright with that.  
“Yours or mine?” he question, nothing but lust in his eyes.  
“Mine.” You breathe out biting your lip, surprised by your own words. He smiles, raising an eyebrow at you equally surprised.   
“Alright then, lead the way.” He quipped with a smirk.  
He tosses back the remainder of his drink before you grabbed his, leading him out the front of the club to flag a cab.


End file.
